


A Fresh Start

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Innkeeper!Gold, Originally Posted on Tumblr, non-magic au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: After Milah leaves him, Gold is left to struggle to run their inn and raise Bae by himself. There isn’t always money left over to keep the inn updated and things have gone downhill over the years. But when Bae brings up the subject of college, Gold realises it’s time he must do something to turn the place around if his boy is going to have a chance at the education he wants. Their part-time maid Belle French is full of support and an unexpected surprise.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	A Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> For the a-monthly-rumbelling prompt "Be Our Guest".

The small inn had seen better times, there was no doubt about that. Looking around the common room at the faded carpet and upholstery, the outdated wallpaper and nicked woodwork, knowing that many of the chairs that faced the fireplace or were scattered around the room desperately needed re-stuffing if not replacing, Morgan Gold had no trouble admitting that. It had once belonged to Milah’s parents, until they had retired and passed it on to her. He’d been working an entry-level position at an accounting firm at the time, but had left it to help run the inn. And it had been fine, those first few years, Milah’s vivacious personality drawing customers back to the inn for return visits, and while she was the public face of the place he was happy to work in the background, taking care of the accounts and doing any maintenance work. And then had come Bae.

It had been a hard pregnancy, and Milah’s moods had soured exponentially as the months had gone by. He had sympathised with her, morning sickness and backaches and swollen ankles and all the rest of it could not have been fun, but he had assumed that once the baby was born that things would improve. But it hadn’t happened. He had fallen in love with little Bailey the moment the baby had been placed in his arms, but Milah had never bonded at all, had never felt that rush of maternal love. He suspected it had bothered her more than she had let on, that she felt that something was wrong with her, but things had never been the same afterwards. She had left when Bae was six; the divorce papers had come in the mail for him to sign. Left to raise a toddler and run the inn on his own, he’d taken a risk and hired a recovering alcoholic named Leroy as a part-time handyman and groundskeeper while he had taken over the front desk duties as Milah once had. It had been a risk that had paid off – despite an outwardly brusque manner, the grateful man had proven to not only be loyal and hardworking, but tolerant of the little boy who had soon starting tagging around after him, full of questions about everything from the mysteries of the fuse box to the plumbing system. Bae loved to tinker with things and now, at 15, he was perfectly competent at dealing with the routine maintenance needed around the inn. Armed with a reference from Gold, Leroy had found another job with a local landscaping company, but he still was always willing to come in to help with larger jobs.

But bookings had slowly fallen off as the years had passed, and Gold knew he had no one to blame but himself. The inn was kept clean and in good repair, but he simply wasn’t any good at interacting with the public as Milah had been, at putting on a smiling face when he didn’t feel like smiling. He wasn’t any good at promoting the place, or thinking up special events to draw visitors. He’d thought once of selling out and finding work as an accountant again, but Bae had been horrified when he’d brought the subject up, protesting that this was home, the only one he had ever known, and he would help out more around the place, _please Daddy_ … He’d had no resistance against his son’s big pleading eyes, Bae had already lost his mother, if the inn meant that much to him then Gold would do everything he could to make sure his son didn’t lose his home as well. And Bae had been true to his word, doing everything he could to help out around the place, even though he’d only been nine or ten at the time, always cheerful with their guests and quick to offer any assistance he could, whether it was the prompt replacement of a burnt out light bulb or suggesting things to do and see in the area. He took after Milah in that way, and Gold could see that he would make a better innkeeper than he himself did, if he wanted to make it his career after he finished school.

And from what Bae had said, that was indeed what he wanted. He’d come home from school the other day talking about the local community college, and getting a business degree, and a list of scholarships currently being offered and projected costs. If he got at least a partial scholarship, Bae had asked tentatively, would he be able to afford to go to college? And Gold had looked at the figures and had felt both a sinking sense of despair and a new resolve firm up inside of him. He had a few years left to turn the inn around; if he could just get it back to the level it had been at before Milah had left, he thought that yes, he’d be able to manage paying for Bae to go to college if he got a partial scholarship. In these internet days, with travelers able to review and compare hotels online, the Oaks had suffered in the comments posted, but it could work in reverse, with improvements becoming known quickly. He knew what needed doing, but the money seemed to go out as quickly as it came in. Bae always outgrew his clothes before they wore out, and ever since he’d hit puberty, he seemed to have a bottomless pit for a stomach. And there was what he thought of as his emergency fund, a certain amount of money in the bank that he didn’t like to touch in case something happened where he would need it. But he thought that he might have to, which was why he was looking around the common room trying to decide what would give the most immediate return for investment.

Gold decided that the old carpet had to go. It was dated and faded and worn, and was one of the first things a prospective guest would see upon entering the inn. And didn’t they have videos showing you how to do everything online these days? Maybe he and Bae could try re-stuffing and reupholstering some of the worst chairs themselves, or ask Leroy to help. He remembered watching a show on TV several years ago where two guys had made such a job look fairly easy. What would help the most, he knew, would be able to reinstate full service breakfast and dinner in the wood-paneled dining room, but that was too far out of reach to even contemplate. All he could manage to offer was fresh fruit and packaged pastries along with coffee or juice in the mornings, and that would have to continue to do for now. He remembered, though, the friendly bustle and talk of a full dining room, with Milah moving amongst the guests in the dual role of waitress and hostess, smiling and making sure everyone was happy with their meals, and he missed it. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Gold started; he hadn’t heard Belle French enter the room. He’d hired her two years ago when his old maid had gotten too pregnant to work and quit, and he couldn’t believe that she was still here. She was young and pretty and smart, surely she could find some better job than vacuuming and making beds and cleaning out bathrooms at his inn? She had mentioned that she had another job, but he hadn’t liked to pry and ask what it was.

“The price of everything has gone up nowadays. Thoughts are a quarter,” he quipped.

She fished in the pocket of her dark green slacks and held out a quarter. He took it, regarded it for a moment, and slipped it into his own pocket.

“I was thinking about all the things that need updating around here and what I could afford to start with. I’ve got to turn this place around if it’s still going to be here by the time Bae gets out of college. “

“Ah. And what did you decide?”

“The carpet first; it’ll make a visible difference right away. I don’t know how much it will cost, but you have to spend money to make money, right?”

“I think it will be a worthwhile investment,” Belle agreed. “This old one is pretty drab. Although who knows, maybe when you take it up there’ll be some nice wooden floorboards under there that you could refinish. Forget the carpet and add some throw rugs in front of the couch and chairs.”

Gold looked doubtfully at the carpet. “I don’t have that sort of luck. Nice surprises don’t happen to me. Except for you agreeing to work here. I don’t pay you enough, I know that, and I don’t know why you stay on.”

“I like it here. It’s got a lived-in charm, like a home. And I like the company.”

He looked askance at her. “I don’t know why, I’m sure. Although ‘lived-in’ is right. It’s just somewhere along the line it seemed to skip straight past ‘shabby chic’ to ‘shabby’.” He sighed. “The mattresses seemed to all go at once, and replacing those put me into a hole I was never able to climb out of again.”

Belle looked at the space beneath the stairs, with its bookshelves and built-in cabinet housing a selection of games and puzzles for guests to enjoy. The games were old, but classics like Yahtzee and Scrabble, and she’d often enough seen families playing them at the table in the common room to know that they were used. But the books…she’d been itching to do something about those books, and this seemed like a good opportunity to bring it up.

“May I suggest something small you might do to brighten this place up, that would cost you hardly any money at all? Or rather, you don’t even have to do anything, I could take care of it all by myself.”

“Of course.” He looked interested. “What is it?”

“Those books.” She gestured. “Do you ever see anybody reading any of them?”

“Not often, I admit. Do you think I should get rid of them? Use the space for something else?”

“No! Or rather, yes, I would get rid of most of the books you already have, but replace them with new ones. The ones you have are old, and not in the good way old. Old as in ‘they were mass market paperbacks back in the ‘70s and no one really wants to read them anymore’. I could replace them all with more appealing titles just from the used book sale the church is holding this weekend, or from the used bookstore room at the library. Get a good mix of everything for – oh, I don’t know – twenty-five dollars?”

He looked at her, amused. “You’ve thought about this before.”

“I’ve wanted to update your book selection since I first started working here,” she admitted. “It’s a nice touch, having books a guest can borrow, but they need to be books that people will want to read.”

“All right. Twenty-five dollars, you say?” He reached for his wallet, but she waved it away.

“You can reimburse me after I’ve bought the books. It might be less than that. But I won’t spend more than that, tops.”

“Okay.” He watched as she moved over to the bookshelves and immediately began pulling books with ruthless efficiency.

“Have you got a box?’ she asked. “No time like the present. I’ll weed out the ones I want to get rid of and we can offer them free to any takers.” She glanced down at a copy of _Jonathan Livingston Seagull_. “Not that I think there will be many.”

“I’ll go find one,” he said, and returned shortly with a large cardboard box. “Will this do?”

“Yes, perfect.” Belle dumped her armful of books into the box and began weeding out more. Bae appeared.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting rid of some of these old books,” Belle explained. “I’m going to buy some new ones.”

“Not my prehistoric animals book?” he asked worriedly, peering into the box.

Belle smiled. “This one?” She pulled a children’s book with a colourful cover off the shelf she was using for the books she planned to keep, at least for now. A few local guide books, some classics, some children’s books with worn covers but still sound construction. “Were these yours? I’m keeping all of these here.”

“Yeah. I really liked that one.” He retrieved a Dr Seuss book from the box, then let it drop back in. “Ew, teeth marks. You can get rid of that one.”

Gold picked up the book by one corner with a grimace, embarrassed that he had had a book that had visibly been chewed on sitting on his bookshelves. He hoped that it had only suffered the damage recently. “I’ll just toss this one in the trash.”

“Can you make up a couple of signs, Bae?” Belle asked. “One saying “New books coming soon!” and another saying “Free for the taking” for the ones in the box.”

“Sure.” Always eager to help, Bae went behind the check-in counter and pulled out two sheets of paper and a marker, quickly returning and taping them in place. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. Would you like to come with me to the library when I’m done here, see if there are any good books in the book sale room that you think kids your age or younger might like to read?”

“Yeah, sure. May I, Dad?”

“Of course, Bae. Thank you for helping.” Gold reached out to squeeze his son’s shoulder fondly.

“You know, I’ve got some books of my own that I’ll probably never re-read,” Belle said thoughtfully as she dumped more books in the box. “They were good books, but there’s always so many new ones to read. Maybe I’ll bring some of those over as well.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gold protested.

“I want to do that,” Belle said firmly. “I’ve only so much space for books, you know, and I keep buying more. I have to get rid of some occasionally, and I’d like to see them here.”

“All right, then,” Gold agreed. “Thank you.” He watched as Belle completely cleared off the second of the two longest shelves and attacked them with a rag and spray cleaner, eradicating every last trace of dust and grime that had built up behind the books over the years. With the bold lettering of the sign promising new books, the emptiness of the shelves merely looked tantalising, and he found himself looking forward to seeing what Belle would bring.

* * *

“Look what I’ve got!” Belle shouldered open the door of the inn a week later, carrying a large box nearly spilling over with books.

Gold hurried over to take it from her, staggering under the weight of it as he did so. “How did you even lift this?’ he demanded, carrying it over to the bookshelves and setting it down on the closest chair with a thump.

“Determination,” said Belle firmly. “Also, housecleaning builds muscles. You try lugging the vacuum cleaner up and down the stairs every day.”

Gold looked into the box with interest. Already he could see a difference, the spines brighter and more colourful than the books they’d gotten rid of. Most of them were paperbacks, presumably because they offered more bang for the buck, but there were a handful of hardcovers mixed in as well. He pulled out _The Complete Sherlock Holmes_ , and Belle reached out and took it from him, placing it on the middle shelf.

“Always popular,” she said, “Especially with the two TV series of recent years. Next.”

Gold pulled out two more hardcovers, Agatha Christie collections, and handed them to her.

“One’s got Miss Marple stories, the other Hercule Poirot. Always re-readable. Next.”

Next was a science fiction anthology, then a collection of fairy tales retold for modern times, according to the cover blurb. A book on Ancient Egypt that he thought he might browse through himself some other time, some more children’s picture books that made him think wistfully of the years when he had a little boy to read to, Bae curled up in a chair next to him, hanging onto his every word.

Belle reached into the box herself, pulling out a handful of kids’ books, methodically filling the lowest shelf. Picture books on the left gave way to chapter books for both young and older readers. Some were ones she remembered reading herself, or that simply looked interesting, some were ones that Bae had recommended. She grabbed some young adult books for the next shelf, merging into fantasy and science fiction. Two trilogies that had been hers which she hoped a new reader would discover. A couple more mysteries, some thrillers, some historical adventure. She slotted George MacDonald Fraser’s _Pyrates_ in with a fond memory of reading it for the first time and having to explain to the waitress at the diner why she kept laughing out loud. A rip-roaring comedic romp was just the thing to read on a vacation. A book of Dave Barry’s humourous essays had been another good find; she’d make the top shelf non-fiction. She pulled out some of the old books she’d kept and re-shelved them in amongst the new ones, making room. She moved the book on ancient Egypt up and looked in the box, plucking out and adding _The Book of Completely Useless Information,_ which she had a feeling that Bae was going to love.

Seeing that Belle was absorbed in her task and had things well in hand, Gold looked at what was left in the box and pulled out a paperback novel that looked brand new, smirking when he saw the title _Dark Desire_ and a shirtless Scot in a kilt on the cover. He was about to make some jesting remark about romance novels and the characters that populated them when he looked more closely at the model on the cover. He wasn’t the usual brawny piece of beefcake, He was slimmer, older, his dark hair streaked with grey. In fact, he looked rather like him, Gold thought with a strange sense of fascination, if a him that went to the gym and had the desire and legs to wear a kilt. He opened the book curiously and received another shock as he was greeted by a picture of the author. He glanced up and then down again, reading the brief bio: ‘ _Piper Allyson lives in a small town in Maine with a head full of heroes.’_

“Um, Belle?”

“Huh?” She glanced over, saw what he was holding and lunged for it, falling short as he quickly jerked it back out of her reach. _“Shit_.”

“This is you, isn’t it?” he asked in disbelief. “You write books. Romance novels. That’s your other job.”

“…yes?” She nibbled on her lower lip. “They’re awful, really. Schmaltzy bodice-rippers, a way to make a buck. You don’t want to read it.” She made another effort to grab the book but Gold wasn’t having any of it. Shit. She hadn’t been able to resist slipping one of her own books into the box, but why had she chosen her latest one? She’d never expected him to notice it, but it had still been foolish.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” he said firmly. “And I’d like to know why this fellow on the cover looks suspiciously like me, if rather more brooding and windswept.”

“Because that’s how I described the character? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have used you. But that’s who I base my characters on, the people I see around here. That’s why I like working here, it gives me a chance to see a wide range of people. Otherwise I’d just sit at home all day and have to try to imagine people’s faces, their bodies, their voices, the way they move, everything. It’s much easier to describe someone that I’ve already seen.”

“Well, that makes sense,” he allowed, glancing down at the book. “So, how smutty is it?” he teased, and thought he had his answer when Belle turned bright red and buried her face in her hands with a groan.

“Is there a right answer that will get you to not read the book?” she asked in a muffled voice.

“Nothing on earth is going to stop me from reading this book.” He patted her shoulder. “Carry on.” He left her with the last of the books to shelve and Belle glanced up to see him disappear into his office behind the check-in counter. 

She wondered how Uruguay was this time of year, and if maybe she should move there and change her name so Gold could never find her again. It would be a hell of a lot easier than facing him after he’d read her book.

* * *

It was weird, reading about a character that was based at least physically on himself. Weird, but sort of complimentary as well. Did she really think his hair looked silken, or was that just for the book? But then he got to the description of the heroine, and he realised that she’d based the heroine on herself. And that raised all sorts of questions, especially when he got to the sex scenes. Was she thinking entirely of the character by then, or did she still have him in the back of her mind? Was she thinking about _them_ , in that kind of situation, that was the question. All he knew was that _he_ certainly was by the time he finally forced himself to put the book down and go to bed that night. It invaded his dreams, and he woke hard and aching in the middle of the night.

He picked it back up after breakfast, hiding out in his office again where he could keep an eye on things and be available if a guest needed him. But it was the slowest time of year, when the beauty of a snow-covered landscape had given way to the mud and rain of early spring, and they only had two guests currently, business travelers. And Bae was at school. He was able to finish the book by the time that Belle finished up her morning routine and called out she was done for the day. He looked up, startled to see her heading for the row of coat hooks instead of coming in to talk to him briefly as she usually did before leaving.

“Belle, wait!” He got up hurriedly, emerging from his office to lean on the check-in desk.

Belle turned back, looking unhappy. “You want to fire me, don’t you? I don’t blame you; what I did was inexcusable.”

“What? No, what do you – oh, the book. I have to admit it was rather weird reading it, but if anything you painted a very complimentary picture of me, or at least of Lachlan. I’m not going to fire you. But I need to know – you didn’t just base Lachlan on me, you based Arianna on yourself, didn’t you?”

Well, it had been too much to hope for that he hadn’t picked up on that little detail, Belle thought. “Yeah.” She curled a lock of hair around her finger nervously.

“Were…were you thinking about us when you wrote them together?” He coloured faintly, thinking of everything that ‘together’ had included. 

She could lie. She’d thought the characters would take over, the way they usually did, and she’d forget who they were based on. But that hadn’t happened this time, even as Lachlan had come to life, it had always been Morgan Gold she had seen in her head, and herself as Arianna, doing all the things she wanted to do to Morgan, from running her fingers through his hair and finding out whether it was as soft as it looked to imagining what he looked like naked, and how he would feel inside her body.

When she didn’t answer right away, Gold gathered his courage and asked what he really wanted to know. “Belle, is that something you _want_ for us?”

Belle found her voice at last. “Yeah,” she admitted softly. 

“Why didn’t you ever say something?” he demanded.

“I didn’t think you were interested. I did say I liked your company,” she defended, and realised how weak that sounded. She hadn’t really tried, other than always being friendly, because she didn’t know how to do that, had never understood the dating scene and how her schoolmates could move in and out of relationships so easily. The only guy she had ever dated had been a jock named Tony and that had only been because after a while it had simply been easier to say yes than to keep turning him down, and her father had kept encouraging her to give the relationship a chance. But there never really was a relationship, they had nothing in common, and she’d broken it off fairly soon when he had tried to turn a goodnight kiss into something more and had refused to take no for an answer. It was so much easier writing two people falling in love than to figure out how to go about making her interest known in real life.

Gold gave a bark of harsh laughter. “You’ll have to be a little less subtle around me, I’m afraid. I’ve got years of Milah telling me what a worthless husband I was still blocking up my ears.”

“You are not worthless!” she exclaimed hotly. “You’ve kept this place going and raised Bae all by yourself, without the support of any family or friends. When was the last time you had a vacation? Hell, no, when was the last time you had _a day off_? Have you ever? You told me once that you thought to sell this place, to go back into accounting. But you didn’t, because your son didn’t want to leave his home. You chained yourself to a 24 hour a day job you didn’t even like when you could have had a simple 9-5 one with weekends off and paid health care and a steady income all because _a child_ asked you to? Do you know how many parents don’t give a _shit_ what their children want, let alone are willing make a life-altering decision to keep them happy? And you did it, you’ve got a son who is happy and self-confident and always willing to help out, and that’s all because of you. So don’t you _ever_ let me hear you even hinting at the fact that you’re not worthy of everything this world has to offer.”

Her words rang out in the silence, taking him aback with their intensity, but he sensed something more behind them. 

“Your parents?” he asked hesitantly.

She made a face. “My dad. He was all right when I was being a dutiful daughter, going to school and getting good grades. But as soon as I got old enough to have a say in where I wanted my life to go, he turned into a controlling, pig-headed jerk.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered.

“Yeah, well that’s life. Others have it worse, I know.”

“Look, would you like to stay to lunch?” Gold asked. “Just sandwiches in the dining room, but –”

“I like sandwiches,” she said quickly, hoping that was it, that they were done talking about her book and she could try to forget he’d ever read it. “Lead the way.”

* * *

_2 weeks later…_

“So what do you think?” Gold asked. The last workmen had gone and the furniture moved back in and he gazed happily at the transformed common room with one arm slung across Bae’s shoulders and the other resting lightly around Belle’s waist. The last couple of weeks had moved with terrifying speed, and Belle had been central to it. She’d helped him pick out the new carpet, and had taken to staying at the inn to write some days, settling with her laptop into the sagging but still comfortable green chair in the common room by the window. He half-suspected it was to keep on eye on her books, to see if anyone was reading the ones she’d chosen, but whatever the reason he loved looking up and seeing her there, making herself at home. They’d shared lunches, and one dinner out, and a pizza and games night with Bae. She’d also helped Bae sort through the scholarships, advising him what things he could do throughout his high school years to make him eligible for the most scholarships possible when the time came to apply for them. He understood her better now, knew that like him she didn’t really have any friends, her job as a writer isolating her and leading to her desire for a part time job in a congenial atmosphere where she could be around people for a little while each day. They’d even shared a few kisses, and he expected that they would be sharing a lot more in future. He’d also checked out every single one of her books that the library had to offer and had a head full of ideas that he hoped reflected things she would like to try in real life. 

It had been Belle, when he’d been trying to figure out where to move the furniture in the common room so the old carpet could be taken up and the new one laid, who’d pointed out that it would be a perfect opportunity to give the room a fresh coat of paint as well, while the room was clear. He’d known she was right, but when he’d mentioned his worry over his already depleted bank balance, she’d reassured him that she could always lend him some money if an emergency arose. The realisation that he’d somehow acquired a friend that genuinely cared about him for the first time since those early years with Milah had almost made him want to cry, and he felt like a burden had immediately been lifted from his shoulders. He’d arranged for some painters to come in before he could change his mind, knowing that they could do a better and quicker job that he could if he tried to attempt it on his own. It had been a chaotic few days as the walls and ceiling were washed and primed and repainted in soothing tones of cream and sage green, the furniture squished into the dining room and lining the hall. The paint had dried just in time for the carpet’s arrival, and with everything back in place, he was looking forward to getting back to some peace and quiet.

“It looks great,” Bae enthused.

“Remember, you are forbidden from getting sick or hurt or incurring any extra expenses in the immediate future,” Gold warned him, tempering his words with an affectionate ruffle of his son’s hair. He hadn’t realized how dingy the room had become until suddenly it wasn’t, and he felt his spirits lifting just looking at it.

“I’ll do my best,” Bae promised. “The chairs kinda look shabbier, though,” he added with brutal honesty. “Now that everything else is new.”

“They do, don’t they?” Gold admitted. “But they’ll just have to continue looking shabby for now.”

“But it’s obvious you’re making changes, and trying to improve things, and guests will notice that,” Belle said firmly. “And I’ll think about what else we can do. Little things can make a big difference. I was thinking we could spruce up some of the furniture in the rooms with some fancy paint jobs? I remember once when we went on vacation when I was little that we stayed at a place where the woman had hand-painted all the dressers and tables and added things like leaves and flowers and little animals. They were just simple designs; she wasn’t an amazing artist or anything, but I loved it so much and have never forgotten it. It’s the sort of detail that gives a place personality and makes people remember it and want to go back.”

“Dad! I could do that!” said Bae excitedly.

“Thus speaks the artist in the family,” said Gold wryly. He turned to Belle. “Have you seen his painting of the inn? The one framed on the wall in the entryway?”

“You did that, Bae?’ asked Belle in surprise. “It’s good. Maybe you could try making up a few prints and having them available for guests to buy as a souvenir.”

“Really?” He looked gobsmacked at the idea. “Do you think it’s that good?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t hurt to try and see if you can make a few bucks.”

Bae looked pleased. “So what about painting the furniture, Dad? I could do some nice designs. Maybe use stencils.”

“Why don’t you make up some sketches for me to see and I’ll think about it,” Gold said cautiously. Maybe he could let Bae try it on his own dresser first and see how it looked. He looked at Belle somewhat accusingly; if anything, the next project they’d talked about tackling was seeing if they could learn to reupholster a chair themselves. Belle had already volunteered to help pick out fabric if they decided to try it, informing him that although upholstery fabric was expensive, there were such things as coupons and sales and remnant bins that could help. 

And that was another thing, the way Belle seemed to have adopted the inn as well as himself and Bae. Once they’d broken down that initial wall of employer/employee, she’d started suggesting all sorts of ideas on how to make the place more inviting. What he saw as an almost insurmountable problem, she saw as a fun challenge, and he suspected his life was going to be just a little more hectic and busy from now on. He glanced at Belle, her body slightly leaning into his. It felt nice. 

“You plan to keep me hopping, don’t you?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she protested. “Bae and I could do it.” 

“Except pay for the paint and the brushes and the varnish and suffer a minor nervous breakdown wondering if some perfectly decent furniture is going to be ruined in the name of art,” he parried. “You have a pent-up interior designer inside you, don’t you, one who doesn’t get enough scope to play in your own apartment?”

“I’m not allowed to make any permanent changes to the place,” she pouted. “I have painted my nightstand, though. It looks really nice. Got it at a garage sale. Do you want to come over and see it some time?”

Bae spluttered, a mischievous grin on his face. “Yeah, go check it out, Dad. I can hold things down here for a couple of hours.”

Gold looked at Bae inquisitively but Belle got his reaction at once and blushed, realising she’d just invited Gold to come see her bedroom. 

“Yeah, all right.” Gold agreed. “Maybe tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed Belle lightly, thinking he could live with all these disruptions to his quiet life as long as they came with Belle’s kisses. 

‘I’M RIGHT HERE, GUYS,” Bae said loudly. He was all for Belle being his dad’s girlfriend, but it wasn’t like he wanted to see certain things up close and personal. He snickered. “Get a room!”

Normally Gold dreaded reading a new review of the inn. There was never anything really bad, like bedbugs or suspicious stains on the sheets, but they generally conveyed a sense of disappointment with the place that reminded him too much of how Milah had been those last years of their marriage, how he had never been able to do anything good enough for her. But this was the first one since the partial renovation of the common room, and he was eager to see if anything about it had been mentioned, if the money he’d spent would pay off financially, and a good review would be the first step in that direction.

He took a deep breath and clicked on the review. A minute later he was yelling for Belle, Bae still being at school for the day.

“What is it?” She shut off her vacuum and came hurrying over.

“Read this,” he beamed proudly, showing her the computer screen.

_“‘I’ve stayed at The Oaks before, on trips to visit family, due to its reasonable rates and comfortable beds. But although always clean, its decor was quite frankly showing its age. Renovations are finally underway, however, and the common room had recently received a much-needed face-lift. What made the biggest impression on me, however, was that my son unexpectedly became engrossed in a book from the selection provided for guests to read during their visit. He didn’t want to leave the next day, not having finished it yet. I told him we were sure to be able to get a copy from the library or bookstore when we got home, but this was clearly unacceptable by the way his face lit up when the proprietor of the inn, having overheard our conversation, most kindly told my son he could take the book with him and keep it. That’s the kind of guest service which will ensure I continue staying at the Oaks when in the area.’”_

“That was nice of you.” Belle said.

“It’s thanks to you that an interesting book was there for that kid to find,” said Gold warmly.

“Then I’d say we make a good team,” said Belle, grinning.

“Can’t argue with that,” Gold said softly, bringing his lips down to hers.   
  
  
_5 years later…_

Gold took a moment to look out over the bustling dining room of the inn with a sense of satisfaction. It had been a tragedy, of course, when Granny’s Diner down the street had burned down. He’d known Anne Lucas of old; he’d often gone to her for advice when Bailey was small, and her granddaughter Ruby had become his go-to person, once she was old enough, whenever he needed someone to watch the front desk or Bae for an hour or two while he ran errands. It was usually easier work than the waitressing she did at the diner, and she’d always been happy for the chance to earn a little extra money. 

But Ruby was engaged to a doctor now, and she had no interest in taking over the diner one day should it be rebuilt. So Anne Lucas had come to him with an offer. She was getting old enough to want to slow down a little, but not yet retire completely. She had the insurance money from the fire; he had a dining room that was going to waste. If he would lease it to her, she was thinking she could make it a scaled-back version of her diner, with a more streamlined menu. 

He had agreed at once, had even allowed her to put up a sign reading “Granny’s” on the outside wall of the dining room. Her regulars from her old diner soon started coming in, creating a thriving atmosphere, and with the convenience of not having to leave the comfort of the inn for meals –- especially welcome in inclement weather or when the dark fell early in late autumn and winter –- his bookings had soon taken a sharp upturn. 

“Hey, Dad,” said Bae cheerfully as he headed for the kitchen with his load of dirty dishes. His brilliant boy had gotten a full scholarship for a two year degree and had graduated this past summer. There’d still been expenses, of course, but the extra money he’d been putting aside for Bae went into further improvements to the inn, and Gold no longer had any worries about its future, or their own. Bae was currently doing his evening stint as busboy in the dining room, frequently exchanging smiles or a word with the pretty blonde waitress whenever they passed. They had gotten pretty serious in the last year, and Gold was perfectly all right with that. He liked Emma Nolan, and if her mother was somewhat annoyingly perky at times he supposed her father David had actually become sort of a casual friend. 

“Hey, handsome.” Belle wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Sorry for the delay. Ready for dinner?” She released him and moved to his side. 

“I am indeed. And you look beautiful..” Belle had wanted to put on something special for dinner tonight and looked especially fetching in a new dress of teal and russet which brought out the chestnut highlights in her hair. “Well worth the wait.” He kissed her cheek and led her to what had always been his and Bae’s table, the one closest to the kitchen, and pulled out a chair for her. The table looked more festive than its neighbours tonight, with two candles and a vase of flowers serving as a centerpiece. He sat down in his own chair and beamed at her. 

Across the room, Bae saw them and motioned to Emma, leaning over to whisper in her ear when she came close. 

Emma took out her ordering pad and presented herself at their table with a friendly smile, leaning over to light the candles as she did so. “Happy second anniversary, Mr. and Mrs. Gold. What can I get for you tonight?”


End file.
